Safe
by el bastardo
Summary: Superman and Richard White slash. Superman is in love, which means that Richard MUST be safe, no matter what.


**Disclaimer: **Superman, obviously, is not mine. Easy-make one-pot honey curry chicken with sauce, however, is. So there.**  
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**Author's Note:** This is a silly piece, written quickly and without warning. I honestly didn't mean to do it. Forgive me.

**Warnings: **Silliness, slash, and bad taste. You'll see.

**Safe**

Richard never thought that being Superman's lover would be a problem. Well, the process in itself - separating from Lois, separating Superman from Lois, arranging for who would have guardianship of Jason, separating Lois from Superman - had been a pain in the proverbial ass, but the actual relationship itself was supposed to be romantic, adventuresome, and full of teh sex.

_But it is_, Richard thought, planting his chin on his fist. _Romance, adventure, and easily enough sex to satisfy seven horny young men._ But there was still something not quite right.

An irritating little _ping!_ announced an IM on the Daily Planet network. Richard absently clicked it open, then snorted in disbelief. It read, "Richard, it looks like something is troubling you. Hugs and kisses, SM."

Richard stared at the note for a moment, then looked around at his office. After the explosions a year ago had broken all the glass in the building, his office walls had been replaced by fashionable dark wood panelling that put Richard in mind of some 50's American dream home smoker's den, just with a wall of newspaper clippings instead of a fireplace.

Another _ping!_ and Richard jumped a bit. Almost hesitating, he clicked it open. "I can see through your walls, baby. X-ray vision, right? LoL. So, what's on your mind? Smooches, SM."

Richard blinked. Then, slowly, he chose "compose" and wrote out a reply. "Aren't you supposed to be working? RW."

The _ping!_ was almost instantaneous. "I'm done my article. Now I can focus on you, lover. Are you okay? SM."

Richard started to feel like something was boring into his head, and he wondered briefly if Superman's X-ray vision could cause cancer. Quickly, almost desperately, he typed up a reply. "I'm okay. Any emergencies in the world? RW."

_Ping!_ "I suppose there's an earthquake or two in Asia. Are you trying to get rid of me? LoL. I'll be back in a bit. Gone for 'lunch.' LoL. Always, SM."

The feeling of impending cancer disappeared and Richard blew a silent sigh of relief. Suddenly, he had an idea of what was weird with this relationship.

Richard came home that night to a condo full of light and the smell of something delicious cooking. The door opened under his hand and he was caught up into a hot, passionate embrace.

"Dinner has 15 minutes to go, lover," Clark husked against his lips. "Up for an appetizer?"

Richard did his best to not think about Superman's reputation of being faster than a speeding bullet, and let his body answer for him.

By the time they sat down for dinner, Richard had to mentally tally the number of broken furnishings they'd already had to replace, and decide that, although the two of them made enough money to cover a few of those replacements, if Richard was going to continue eating they would have to have a Talk about Superman's rambunctious bed-play.

"Clark," he began.

"I heard that you're flying to Israel," Clark said quickly.

"What?" Richard's spaghetti-laden fork paused halfway to his mouth. "From who? Perry just asked me if I could today."

Clark's gaze flicked down. "I heard you talking," he said quietly. "I couldn't help over-hearing. Sorry."

"But, weren't you- in Taiwan- Eh.. Oh, never mind. Yeah, he asked, and I was thinking it might be a good idea. That's a high-profile story. I wouldn't want to send anybody else."

"It could be dangerous," Clark persisted. His blue eyes were very wide, and he reached across the table to put his hand over Richard's slightly smaller one. "There's a war going on."

Richard smiled. "Now that's a good story," he said. "I'll be fine, not even close to the action." He wormed his fingers around until they interlaced with Clark's. "You have nothing to worry about. Really."

Clark didn't look convinced, but he allowed Richard to move the subject elsewhere. Like to their furniture.

Several times during his flight, Richard thought he saw something out his window. But, to prevent making a scene reminiscent of Hitchcock and John Lithgow, he forebore asking anyone else if they were also seeing things. Other than this, his trip was uneventful. He made his way through dusty streets to his hotel, settled in, and then took out his laptop.

"First Impressions," he began. "The populace seem anxious and pre-occupied. This is not a stable situation. Food, water, electricity, phones... All these Americans take for granted, and the people living here cannot."

"Richard."

Richard yelped and nearly jumped out of his thinly-padded seat. Superman leaned in the corner by the open window, briefly obscured when a breeze made the yellowed curtain flap.

When Richard's breath returned, he swore. "You nearly scared me to death," he said accusingly. "Why can't you knock?"

"Your window was open," Superman said innocently. "I thought you were waiting for me."

Richard stared, disbelieving. "You didn't say you would visit," he said. "You need to tell me these things. I have a fragile human heart."

Superman looked immediately contrite. In a flash, he was kneeling at Richard's side. "I know," he said mournfully. "That's what I worry about. It's not safe here for you."

"It's not safe for anyone," Richard said gently. He reached out and stroked slender fingers along Superman's face. The hero closed his eyes and leaned his head into Richard's caress. "Even in Metropolis, we're not always safe. A stray vehicle, gas leaks, freak explosions... Anything can kill us. Here, there's just a couple more things." Superman opened his eyes to stare into Richard, and Richard had to actively fight the compulsion to add "X-ray-induced cancer" to his list.

"I know that, Richard," Superman said quietly, "but I don't want anything to happen to you. I love you."

"I love you, too. But I need to do this. It's my life. So long as there's a war, I need to be here to cover it."

Superman's gaze sharpened, but Richard didn't notice. He leant down to kiss his lover.

"Let's break some furniture," he suggested slyly. "But then I need to work."

The war ended the next day. No one could explain it, but suicide bombers completely disappeared, guns and ammunition mysteriously melted, as though exposed to high-powered lasers, and leaders, trembling in fear, shook hands with their enemies.

A week later, Richard was called back to Metropolis.

"I need your advice." Richard said it hurriedly, awkwardly, in a hushed voice that reflected contraband and bodily functions. "I, uh, I'm in a relationship with someone, and they're, uh, a bit clingy. Kind of... Well, they kind of follow me sometimes..." He took comfort that there was a huge forest fire in British Columbia at this exact moment. "How do I tell someone that they're too, too interested?"

Lois looked up from her fifteenth cigarette of the day, and Richard had to wonder who would get cancer first - her lungs or his brain. She lifted a pencil thin eyebrow. "Tell him that you had a child with another man," she said bitterly.

Richard blinked. He scrubbed his hand over partially shaved stubble, left on his face when he had abandoned the house at Clark's suggestion that laser vision was a more effective and safer hair-removal technique. _Maybe I'll grow a beard_, he considered, almost forgetting where he was. Lois' sharp cough brought him back. "Uh, okay," he stuttered. "I don't think that'll quite work," he said, "but thank-you for that, Lois."

He backed away from the thin woman, slowly, trying not to make any sudden movements. She glared at him, and then finally went back to her work.

It seemed he would have to figure this out for himself.

"Clark," he began, this time over a meal of a Big Mac and salad. They sat, awkward in their suits, in the McDonald's restaurant surrounded by screaming children. Here, Richard could think with confidence, his eager lover could not do anything to him without scaring a bunch of kids. That would be un-Superman-like. "I want to talk about our relationship."

"What about it?" Clark said, his gaze drifting lower. Richard could only vaguely remember what it was like to be stared at like that by someone who couldn't actually undress him with their eyes.

"Well, I'd like a bit more... space."

"You want to see space?" Clark said, looking up quizzically. "I suppose I'd be able to take you one day, but we'll need the proper equipment..."

"I said I NEED SPACE!" Richard shouted. In the following silence, prodded by the indignant stares of overweight mothers, he blushed and looked down. "I need space. To be by myself for a while. You know."

It was a broken whisper that answered. "You... You want to break up with me?"

"What? No-" But Clark was gone. A child, her McFlurry blown over by a mysterious wind, started to cry. Richard was alone.

Richard leaned on the short wall and sighed into the night. This was Lois' spot, traditionally, but when Superman ceased to find her here, she'd instead gone to the regular smoking room, much to the surprise of her peers. It had a great view of the city, Richard noted, but it was windy as hell. He had to wonder how Lois ever managed to smoke. _Determination_, he decided after a moment. He was tempted to smoke as well, if he'd had a pack handy. If only he had something to do with the fingers that twisted around each other.

"What have I done?" he whispered. Superman was the best thing to happen to, well, the world. Him included. Why had he shunned him so? "I just wanted a bit of space," he continued. "Some... independence." Maybe even some... danger. Other than the danger of brain cancer.

"I can't help it," a warm, quiet voice said behind him. He didn't turn around. Arms slid over his shoulders and he relaxed into the embrace. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you. I love you."

"I know... And I love you, too." Richard turned, and looked up into inhuman blue eyes. "But you need to stop hovering."

The Man of Steel settled to the ground, looking sheepish. "I just like being a bit taller than you," he explained.

Richard stared at his lover for a moment, silent, and then shook his head. "I mean, I feel like you're suffocating me. Like I can't go anywhere without your eyes on me. Everyone else on this planet doesn't have that kind of control over their lovers." He nodded to encourage understanding. "I just want to be like everyone else."

Superman's expression softened, and he pulled Richard close to his chest, into his warmth. His lips closed on a space below Richard's ear, and the reporter moaned softly. He reached out to run his fingers over the costumed chest. The wind, beyond the strength of Superman's arms, whistled around them.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Superman whispered. Richard's eyes, fallen shut in pleasure, flared open. He tried to pull away, but couldn't move out of the gentle steel grip. "Because I don't agree. I will keep you safe. Always. I love you, Richard."

Sometime later, Richard bemoaned the Kryptonian standards of comfort for, perhaps, the hundredth time. Crystal furnishings left much to be desired, honestly, and could Superman be bothered to install a few more heaters? It was all Richard could do to stay warm in the sub-arctic temperatures.

_Fortress of Solitude, indeed_, Richard spoke inwardly. He would go crazy if they didn't get the internet in here, soon.

"If I'm not crazy already," he said to a crystal structure shaped vaguely like an elephant, and laughed a little hysterically. But at least he was safe, as Superman told him time and again, even if he was almost always alone. And they certainly didn't have to worry about breaking the furniture.

**fin.**


End file.
